Master of the Game
by Van the Key of Lain
Summary: I don’t know what it is about Gai that makes me do so, but I love getting him riled up. [Warning:ShonenAiYaoi]


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Naruto, and this is making me no profit.

**NOTE:** **KakaGai,** So, if your not a fan or can't stand this pairing, then why would you wanna be here?

**_Warning_:**

**_Sex, Language, Thought_**

- - -**_  
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**_Master of the Game_**

To this day, I still haven't figured out how he does it. Maybe it's just one of those things I'm not supposed to really ever fully figure out or deduce. If I did that, sex would lose too much meaning; one simply enjoys the activity, not make it into documentation.

But I can't help but think. How does he do it? How can he have me so completely trained - that's not right. I am not trained. I am to my own desires. I am to my own wants and needs. There's no way I'm trained.

Yet it nags me so. Aren't I really the leader, and isn't it I that is leading him?

No, I don't want to think on it. Dwelling on it will make me go crazy. Pondering further will make the whole act lose its appeal – and trust me; sex losing appeal is not something I can live with.

I like sex, I enjoy sex. I'm a man, so I have no qualms saying so.

_**- o - o - o - **_

It's a normal evening, same as it has been recently. The missions come and go, and the night is relatively peaceful. I'm a little tired, but not overly so. Gai's a little worn out, but he's still a bit bright eyed. I swear sometimes I think the amount of energy the man could burn through in a day could fuel a tiny village for the same length of time.

I feel I could go for a cup of hot tea. He feels the same; so we hit up my place. Contrary to popular belief, I know my way around a kitchen enough that I won't die of starvation or dehydration. So yes, I can make tea rather well. It's nothing special. We relax after our day off work; drinking in the soothing liquid and converse about anything we think of. It could be the day's events, how something was a reminder, things we need to do or get or fix.

I'm at home, and I'm somewhere private and safe. I'm with company that I daily would give my life for, or risk my life with. So if I feel like getting comfortable, I do so. But I always have to tease. It's just my nature. I don't know what it is about Gai that makes me do so, but I love getting him riled up. I know there are people who love to tease others; yet they have that one person they just have to tease the most – that person who gets all flustered and riled. For me, that person is Gai.

It gets me off. Call me sick, I don't give a shit. There are worse things I've come into the un-fortune to know of that are far sicker.

So I tease with little phrases and coy snide remarks. 'Why must it be so humid all the time?' or 'How can you stand that damn getup; I'm sweltering as it is.' Something similar along those lines, as I proceed to remove my top. It never fails to produce a blush across his tanned skin. I tease him and ask if he's hot, for he must have a fever.

The big idiot just starts rambling, trying to match me and follow suit. Thing is, I get to ridicule him even more when he does, because his getup is a one piece suit. This leaves him in his boxers or briefs, or whatever the hell he's wearing under them that day. I still have my pants. So I mock him, feint that he's trying to seduce me and have at me; that he's really just as perverted as I am.

You might not believe it, but the man is damn frisky. Well, maybe you would, seeing as how animated he is in public. Gai loves to touch, and fondle; he pays attention to little details that, quite frankly, I wouldn't, nor couldn't for that matter. I try, though. It was rather erotic the first time he nipped me on the wrist, and I felt myself already rushing blood to the lower end of my body. I was highly surprised, needless to say.

Once he gets like that, I sometimes have to fight to get him off. It's hard though, because he knows me too well; he knows all my sweet spots. Then again, I never really try all that hard. Eventually he gets to me. I don't want to say I give in, because then I'd sound weak. No, he just knows me too damn well.

Somewhere in between the playing and horsing around, we somehow make it to the bedroom. I never really paid attention as to how, I just knew that's where we'd end up; usually is. We'll shuffle across the small room until we hit the edge of the bed; in which Gai usually ends up hitting first. This gives me the moment to be dominating, as we tumble atop the soft mattress; I'm usually on top. Yeah, I'm leading this. There's no question.

I don't know for how long we lay there, nipping, kissing, caressing; all those little things people seem to disregard. I know at some point, he'll begin to whisper to me, telling me what he wants me to do. I'll grin and proceed to tease him. I'll ask if that's what he really wants. He'll begin to plead with me. God, do you know how much it turns me on to hear Gai plead for me? Well…it gets better.

It usually starts the same. He'll want me to please him orally; not that I mind. In fact, I enjoy it myself. Yet, I'm the one calling the shots, ne? So I take my time, trailing little kisses down his chest; toy with his pants' waistband. Soon enough, he's bared to me, like one would bare their soul to another. At this point, he's begging me; he's moved from pleading. So I comply.

He moans and I can feel his body quivering under my ministrations. It really just makes me work at it more; because I'm turned on by the sounds of pleasure escaping my partner, and the feeling of his muscles tensing under my roaming hands. Time never has any meaning to us when we fall under the spell of lust, passion and sex. It's hard to stop myself, but I do. I only do so when I hear him moaning louder and I feel him try to thrust into me.

I pull away, licking my lips and giving him one of my snide grins. I pull back up towards him, like a predator stalking prey. His breathing is hitched, deep and erotic. His eyes are dazed, yet I know he can see me, and I know what he's about to ask. He'll start with 'please', over and over like a record. I'll ignore him. Hey, I can't just give in. No, I like to toy with him. It just makes him plead more.

What's funny is that it's hard, really hard, to keep myself from giving in. I hear it in his voice; the sound of the light whimper he makes. That sound, the fact he begs for me to take him – I know its all for me; only for me. No one else will ever hear these things I hear. No one else will ever see him as I do now. It's all for me; just for me.

It makes me desire him more.

It makes me give in, and I lean back, to admire what I have beneath me.

A frame built to almost perfection; his body is hard and firm; yet you'd be surprised how fucking smooth and supple he can be. Years of dedicated training and working to achieve a goal of the utmost importance to him has given him this form that looks like those ancient statues I've read about. Almost perfect.

No. Perfect to me. Disregard the scars, disregard the taint of death.

I see a beast of a man who could snap someone in two.

I see the gentle soul of a child, somehow unmarred by the taint of the world.

I see him looking at me, with a gaze that is demanding I take some sort of action, or face a worse consequence. It's a gaze I see almost every time, and I still can't get out from under its effect. I obey that gaze; rationally, it's because I'm done admiring what I have. Yeah that's it. It's not that I'm lulled by it, nah. It's not me that's being lead – I'm the one taking him after all.

So take him I do. I do it slow, because it gets the best reaction. You'd think just being quick and fast would make someone get the highest rile, but I learned that isn't always the case. If you take it slow, then they feel _everything._ That is why I toy with him, and take my time. I get the best rile from him, for a little bit. It's only when he wraps his legs around my lower waist and pushes me against himself that I change pace.

I love to fuck with him. Haha… I made a funny.

Though, seriously, has it ever crossed your mind how mind blowing the zealous man could be? He is the Taijutsu master of our entire village; no one can compare – though Lee comes close. Have you ever stopped to understand how flexible the nature of that art is? He could be a damn contortionist. I'm surprised he isn't. However he can do things that I know I could never do, and a small part of me hates that. The larger part enjoys the fun it brings.

I'm starting to feel the burning of pain, pleasure and instinct throughout my body. The burning pain in my legs creeps slowly through them, as I'm using them for all my support, and leverage for my fast pacing. The siring in my abdomen I know is from my pleasure and what I know will lead me to my climax in due time. The scalding in my chest from hitched breathing, gasping, cries of random thoughts, feelings and words escaping; the instinct that I must possess and take over; that I am the one doing all the work, so I should be the one to be dominating.

Yet if I am doing all the work, why does he get the better and the most benefit?

I hear him, just slightly through my own rising heat, with that tone that commands me to follow his words. At this point, I just do. I really can't argue, because I hear that tone, and it makes me follow. That voice could tell me to jump off the Hokage mountain and I'd do it. Though part of me bites back and complies, because, dammit, I'm the one doing on the work.

I'm the one in control, not him. So I'll do what I want. Though what I want is everything all at once, and I know I can't get that. So why do I feel like I'm being shown a path, and only thinking I'm the one building it? Ah, it's getting to me. I'm the aggressor.

I'm the "seme"; he's the "uke." Right? Right.

In a harsh ploy, I jerk back with enough force to break his legs hold on my waist. With the tinge of primal instinct and the need to conquer, I lean back in and deliver a bite to his neck. Lucky for me I somehow always manage to hit a spot that won't show on him when he's clothed. It only lasts a quick minute before I grab him and tackle him into a new shifted position; though he rarely ever puts up much of a resistance.

This time, I forgo the niceties and all that coy play I had done before. I'm too far gone for all that now, so when I take him again I'm harsh, fast, and though I hate to ever use – _admit_ – this word, desperate. I want release. I want to hear his screams.

I want the control I lost. Where the fuck did it go?

I finally get half of what I want. I finally get to hear his screams; his ecstasy of orgasm. I feel my hands begin to slip from their tight hold on his abdomen as it becomes a bit slick. I dig my nails into his skin, grasping for more hold. All of it is making me lose it. All of it is getting to me, making me fall into a world that is all my own that no one else will ever touch. It is all for me, and only me.

So I lose myself to the consuming burning from before.

I cry out in the same ecstasy my partner held before.

I touch that little piece of heaven one reaches at the height of it all.

I feel myself crashing down. My body is quivering so bad, I'm amazed I'm able to pull away. I am drained; exhausted. I don't feel so coherent anymore. I feel pretty tired. So I begin to descend, and find myself caught in my lovers embrace.

Wait. When the hell… how did he have enough energy to flip around so quickly? How does he always catch me like that?

I'm always in his arms after words. This has just occurred to me. I meekly look up to see a smug looking face gazing at me. Why that look? That's the look of a possessor, not the possessed. I give a smirk, and say something cheeky. He just laughs and grins even more, before I'm taken over by the darkness of fatigue.

Can the one who's being taken really call the shots?

If I'm doing all the work, how is he in control?

Though does that mean, when it's his turn to do all the work, I'll be in control? No, something tells me even then he'll still call the shots. Dammit. Though, Gai is more willing to bend to me than I do to him. Not that I don't enjoy being different once in a while. Sometimes it's rather nice not to have to do all the work. So I give up my control for a bit.

At least it's not my ass that's sore in the morning.

**_- Owari -_**

** A/N**: Ok, yeah, this was very new for me – My first time writing from first point perspective. That was rather challenging. So yeah, it stumbled across this whole idea while… deeply thinking along the lines of fun Yaoi. Sometimes you have a character than could be an Uke, yet be so damn conniving to be able to have the control that their Seme would be expected to have. This is how I could see Gai. He'd be fine and dandy willing to be the taken – but that's all his own ploy; begging and pleading… his tools. An art for him to warp. You lead on by careful manipulation. You get exactly what you want. That's what I was trying to emphasize. Anywho, I hope this was enjoyable. I try hard to write tasteful sex. It's so much fun. :3


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